


Golden

by jstabe



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:54:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28890165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jstabe/pseuds/jstabe
Summary: It took Barton less than a week to find him.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 53
Kudos: 192
Collections: Charity Hawktion 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vexbatch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vexbatch/gifts).



> For Vex, who made my first auction such a wonderful experience. 
> 
> They primarily asked for post- CA:TWS fic with Bucky scoping out the Tower, and Clint catching him at it, along with some "we aren't dating", "actually we might be" moments. The idea for the apple orchard is all theirs, though I completely made up the place Bucky and Clint go to.
> 
> Thank you so much to saves for listening to me rant, rave, and scream when this didn't behave, and for the awesome last minute beta job. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

Bucky ambled down the sidewalk, as casually as every other New Yorker with some place to be. Dressed in a long-sleeved Henley, jeans, boots, and with his hair under a ball cap, he didn’t stand out in the crowd. As long as he kept his left hand in his pocket, he was fine. A few blocks later, he broke from the throng and headed down a narrow alley. This building had a separate entrance for apartment residents. A few days ago, Bucky had swiped a keycard, and it was still working fine. He let himself in, knowing that he was going to have cycle the building out soon. He couldn’t afford to become complacent. 

He knew where all the security cameras were, knew they weren’t actively monitored, and kept his head down anyway. Being a ghost was second nature. He let himself out onto the rooftop, tipping his head up to catch the sun. The calendar might think it was spring, but the weather didn’t, especially up high. Still, the sun felt good on his skin and he let himself linger for just a moment before he moved to a shadowed corner. Even from this vantage point, he could see Avengers Tower standing tall in the distance. 

He wasn’t sure what compelled him to keep doing surveillance on the Tower when he knew Steve was safe inside that building. Given Stark’s security measures, he couldn’t see into upper levels of the building and while the airspace around the Tower wasn’t restricted, Bucky knew from research that with Stark’s AI it might as well have been. 

He was standing near the edge of the apartment complex’s roof, doing his usual visual sweep of Stark’s building, when something in the air changed around him and he went rigid. 

“Don’t shoot,” said a voice off to his right. “I come in peace.”

He knew that voice, had seen Hawkeye in news clips, standing with Steve. Had combed through everything the Widow had dumped from S.H.I.E.L.D., looking for info on HYDRA. He turned a glare on the man, unsettled that he’d been able to get the drop on Bucky.

“Where the hell did you come from?”

“Originally? Iowa.” Blue-green sparkled with humor. “If you mean right now, I came from over that way.”

He jerked a thumb to indicate the area over his left shoulder. Bucky could see an arrow anchored into the concrete with a zip line that looked like it came from the next building over, just several floors up. There was no way that should have been silent yet Bucky hadn’t heard a thing. It was unnerving.

Barton was watching him quietly, seemed to know exactly what he was thinking, and the small grin he was sporting became a full-blown smile.

“Hey, don’t feel bad. Everybody underestimates me.”

“Why are you here?”

Barton shrugged. “You’ve been watching for a while now, and it’s pretty clear you’re not coming in. Figured I’d reach out, see if I can help?”

Bucky wasn’t about to touch the bit about coming in. There was nowhere to come in to. Instead, he asked, “Stark’s AI catch me?”

“Nah, man. That’s all me. I like the rooftops, too. Good vantage points. Easy to see if someone is coming.”

“You seriously telling me that Steve doesn’t have Stark’s computer running full time looking for a glimpse of my face?”

“He does. Dude doesn’t know the meaning of the word quit. Somehow it hasn’t occurred to any of them that you’d end up in New York. ‘cept me and Nat and nobody’s asked so we haven’t told.”

It took Bucky a minute to figure out why that bothered him. “Thought you were Steve’s friend?”

“I am. He wants to find you, bring you home.”

“I don’t have a home.”

There was a flicker of something in Barton’s eyes before he nodded. “Not yet, no. And Steve’s a great guy but he’s stubborn as fuck. He hasn’t really gotten that part yet. Nat’s working on him though.”

Bucky decided to ignore the implications of all of that. “And what? You’re just going to let me wander around New York on my own?”

“You running around killing anyone?”

Bucky bristled. “I don’t do that anymore.”

“Then what’s the big deal? You’re out of HYDRA’s hands. You get to make your own choices now.”

“Why? Why are you doing this?” Bucky asked, baffled.

Barton’s lips twisted into something bitter. “Because I know what it’s like to be unmade.” Bucky started to say something but Barton shook his head. “If and when you see Steve again should be up to you.”

Bucky was still mulling that over when Barton walked over to retrieve his arrow. He pulled his quiver and bow from the corner he’d apparently stashed them in when he’d hit Bucky’s roof. He tucked the arrow away, slung the quiver and bow over his shoulder. 

“Well, this was fun. We’ll do it again sometime.”

He disappeared through the roof access door before Bucky could think of anything to say in reply.

➳✪➳

Bucky changed his routine after that. He scouted out new buildings, ones he hadn’t gone near before. He varied the times he watched the Tower, even shortened the amount of time he did his surveillance on the building. HYDRA had had safehouses throughout the city, and he quit using them all, moving to a small apartment in Queens that had been mentioned in HYDRA paper files only once. He abandoned the rooftops, knowing now that was Barton’s favorite haunt.

It took Barton less than a week to find him.

He made sure Bucky saw him coming this time, entering the park from the entrance directly in front of Bucky and making a beeline straight for him. Bucky sighed, thought about getting up and leaving before deciding Barton would probably just chase him down.

“This is new,” Barton said cheerfully as he dropped down on the bench by Bucky.

“Thought being on the ground would make it less likely for you to show up, Hawkeye.”

Barton laughed, stretched his legs out in front of him. He had tucked his hands into the front pocket of the Black Widow hoodie he was wearing, and appeared perfectly content to sit and talk to Bucky.

“Made it harder,” Barton admitted. “When I couldn’t find you up high, I decided to follow Steve for a couple of days. Realized he always eats lunch in this park when he comes back from visiting Sam in DC.”

“Someone should tell him to be less predictable.”

“They should,” Barton agreed. 

He pulled his hands out of the pocket of the hoodie, bringing out two packages like a magician with a rabbit. He handed one of the packages to Bucky. It was a small bag of apples with the McDonald’s logo on it. He snorted, making Barton smile.

“I have a fast-food problem.” He said it like he probably didn’t find it a problem at all but other people did. 

“Apples don’t really seem like that big of a problem.”

Barton sighed theatrically. “They probably aren’t, normally. These came out of a Happy Meal.”

“A what now?”

Barton looked at him quizzically. “You’ve been free for what? Almost a year now? Tell me you’ve eaten fast food. Watched a TV.”

Bucky rolled his eyes as he opened the pack of apples. “Liquid diet for almost eight decades, pal. When I could finally stomach real food, you think I’m choosing McDonald’s?”

He wasn’t sure why he’d said that, especially when he caught the sympathy on Barton’s face. It was gone before Bucky could get angry about it, or embarrassed.

“Fair point,” Barton said easily. “I like real food as much as the next guy. But I grew up without a lot of money. We couldn’t afford things like Happy Meals. Those are the kid meals at McDonald’s, by the way. Comes with a cheap toy.”

Bucky thought that over as they ate. He thought he understood it, wanting what most other kids probably had. “Steve didn’t have money either, growing up. My folks weren’t rich but I guess we were compared to Steve and his ma. Then the Depression hit and nobody had much of anything.”

Barton turned his head to study Bucky for a minute. “That’s probably always going to be weird.”

“What is?”

“Hearing you and Steve talk about stuff like the Depression. You guys both look younger than me.”

Bucky honestly thought it was weirder that he’d said anything to Barton at all. The man was a stranger. Then again, Bucky had been deprived of human company for over seventy years. Maybe it wasn’t that odd at all.

They finished their snacks and people watched in companiable silence. After nearly an hour, Barton stood and stretched. “Going to head back to the Tower. We sticking to parks now?”

“Guess you’ll have to see.”

Barton’s laugh was warm, and stayed with Bucky all the way back to Queens.

➳✪➳

Bucky didn’t stick to parks, and he continued to lessen his rooftop forays as well. There were restaurants, coffee shops, and any number of stores within a three-mile radius of the Tower. It was easy enough to find a spot and get a look at Steve. He wasn’t ready to speak to the man who’d been his best friend, yet he was compelled by the need to be in the area Steve called home. He didn’t see the man every day, just often enough to let him know that Steve seemed alright, if tired at times. Part of him felt guilty at that because he knew how hard Steve was looking for him. The rest knew it just wasn’t time yet. He wasn’t ready.

He’d been sticking low to the ground for a few days when he decided to venture back out onto the rooftops. He’d scoped out a building a few days ago, one he hadn’t used before. He used the maintenance entrance to gain access to the building then used their dedicated elevator to get to the roof. It was warmer today, a hint of real spring in the air as he stepped outside. The Tower was to the southwest of him, windows sparkling in the light. 

He did his normal scan of the area, searching for threats. He’d never found any, doubted he ever would. Stark’s AI would take care of that much quicker than even Bucky could. Still, it settled something in him to see for himself. He was doing a final sweep before heading out when movement on the Tower roof caught his eye. He turned immediately, reaching his left arm around to rest on the gun hidden in the back of his waistband. He recognized Barton, relaxed marginally even though the man was holding his bow. Even at this distance he could see enough to know that the archer was nocking an arrow. He ignored the strident warning in his head, believed that Barton wouldn’t shoot him. Hell, at this altitude and with the wind, Barton was more likely to hit a random bird….

It took everything in him not to react when an arrow embedded itself in the concrete between his booted feet. There was a black bag attached, which made Barton’s shot even more impressive. How in the hell had he managed it? Bucky shook off the thought, bent down to open the cloth bag. Inside was small bakery box holding an enormous cinnamon roll. He barked out a rusty laugh, lifted the metal hand in a salute to Barton. The man took a bow, then waved enthusiastically before he turned and went inside. Bucky found himself grinning the entire trip back to the safehouse.

It occurred to him, as he was sitting at home with a cup of coffee and the cinnamon roll, that Barton shooting at him hadn’t elicited a single negative reaction.

➳✪➳

It somehow became a game after that. Bucky would pick someplace completely at random, someplace he’d never been and Barton would show. Sometimes just a glimpse of him, sometimes long enough to exchange some words. After about a week and a half of Barton finding him with seeming ease, Bucky had a thought that made him go cold. He didn’t have a cell phone, not even a burner, so he ripped a page out of the notebook he carried and scrawled a message. The next time he met Barton, he slipped the paper into Barton’s pocket.

_Do you have a tracker on me?_

He went back home and checked the apartment from top to bottom, found no bugs or any other sort of electronic equipment. He went through every item of clothing he owned (which wasn’t much) and found nothing at all. The only other way would be on his body somehow, or in the metal arm, which he wouldn’t put past HYDRA. Subcutaneous trackers could be dealt with. The arm? Well, it wasn’t like he could just rip the thing off.

He was agitated when he went back to the same spot where he’d seen Barton the day before. He never used the same place twice in a row, and adding the worry about a tracker into the mix didn’t help his mood. Barton showed up minutes after he did, which didn’t improve his anxiety. Barton noticed, gave a little jerk of his head. It was easier out on the sidewalk, the people not as close together as they were in the bodega. Bucky took off, no destination in mind, simply needing to move. Barton fell into step with him easily.

“You don’t have any trackers. Not from us or anyone else,” Barton said immediately.

Bucky’s shoulders loosened. “How can you be sure?”

“Tony scanned for those first thing, while Steve was in the hospital.” Bucky flinched at that; Barton gave him a sheepish look. “Anyway, if JARVIS couldn’t find any trackers on you, they don’t exist.”

“Who’s JARVIS?”

“Tony’s AI.”

“I didn’t realize it had a name.”

“I don’t know how many people know about it. I mean, Tony’s pretty free about the fact that he has top security at the Tower and it’s an AI. Otherwise, I think he keeps it under wraps. Most people don’t know just how good JARVIS is.”

“I don’t know why I should trust you.”

Barton flashed a sunshine smile. “Because I’m trustworthy. Look at this face.”

He gave Bucky a look of such exaggerated innocence that Bucky had to laugh. 

“You’re Steve’s friend,” Barton said, like it was that simple.

“I’m not that guy anymore.”

“Doesn’t matter to Steve,” Barton said, shrugging. “He still considers you his best friend.”

“Guess it won’t do any good to tell him otherwise.”

“Probably not. Has anybody ever won an argument with that guy?”

“Not even when he was small.”

Barton laughed at that, and the last of Bucky’s tension eased. “You going to tell me how you keep finding me?”

“I mean, I can. Where’s the fun in that?”

“You’re a strange man, Barton.”

“It has been said,” Barton agreed. “And it’s Clint.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s Clint.”

“We know each other well enough for first names, huh?” Bucky joked, trying to hide the surprised pleasure he felt at Clint offering his name.

“I mean, we do hang out every day.”

“We see each other for five minutes.”

“Whose fault is that?”

Bucky stopped walking, startled. “Wait. You want to actually talk to me?”

“Uh, yeah. Why else would I be doing this?”

“I don’t know. I guess I figured you were just popping in long enough to let Steve know I was okay. Or to let S.H.I.E.L.D. or whoever know I wasn’t blowing up buildings or something.”

Clint’s face went serious, and it wasn’t until that moment that Bucky realized just how open and friendly Clint had been before. “I haven’t told Steve you’re here. If you wanted him to know, you’d have told him. I’m not doing this because I think you need a babysitter, Bucky. Thought maybe you could use a friend.”

Bucky could only stare at Clint, stunned. There was a lot to unpack in that sentence. Clint seemed to understand, resumed their previous leisurely walk. It was easier to talk to Clint when he didn’t have to look him in the eye.

“Thank you. For not telling Steve. I’m just not ready for that yet.” He caught Clint’s sharp nod, smiled a little. “And the other. I, umm. I could use one. A friend, I mean.”

“Well then, you’ve got one.”

Like it was that easy, when he hadn’t done this in years. Hell, maybe it would be. Bucky supposed he could just wait and see.

➳✪➳

The next couple of weeks flew by. He met Clint every day, the archer still showing up wherever Bucky happened to be. Instead of running off, though, they started grabbing coffee and going for walks around the neighborhood. After so many years in and out of cryo, being outside was a freedom Bucky couldn’t get enough of.

New York ended up with an early preview of spring, the morning bright and sunny, the temperature in the low sixties. Bucky had ducked into a Starbucks and right back out again before Clint had even shown up, then led the way to a small park. They were currently lounging on a bench, Clint watching as people played catch with their dogs.

“Man, I want a dog,” he said, the look in his eyes clearly covetous.

“So get one.”

“And do what with him when I’m out Avenging? Or on a S.H.I.E.L.D. mission?”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. missions are a thing?”

“They will be,” Clint sighed. “Steve’s been working with Nat and Sam on clearing out all the known HYDRA bases. It’s kind of two-for-one when he’s looking for you. Steve won’t let anybody even mention rebuilding until he’s sure HYDRA is gone.”

“Good.”

They sat in companiable silence, Bucky basking in the sun. He was getting looks from Clint, couldn’t figure out why. He turned his head to face Clint, cocked an eyebrow. An uncharacteristic flush painted Clint’s cheekbones.

“You look hot today.” Bucky’s eyebrows shot to his hairline and Clint’s flush deepened. “I mean hot, like temperature. Not like hot. I mean, not that you aren’t. Hot. Jesus Christ, can you just shoot me?”

“I could,” Bucky said slowly. “But I’m still trying to figure out what that just was.”

“A train wreck. And we’re forgetting about it. I just noticed you sitting in the sun and you seem... warm. Very warm.”

Bucky let it go because he wasn’t sure he wanted to know more right now. “Temperature doesn’t really bother me thanks to the serum. I’ll have to figure out something though. People start noticing if you’re wearing long sleeves when it’s in the nineties.”

“Ah, yeah. Gotta blend in. Except you’re not a spy. You can just let it all hang out.”

Bucky drummed metal fingers deliberately on the bench. “Hard to stay under government radar if I’ve got a metal arm just hanging out.”

“Why would you need to?”

Bucky looked at him, confused. “Because I’m wanted in like fifteen countries?”

“Me too!” Clint said cheerfully. “Or I was, pre-S.H.I.E.L.D.. Then they made it all go away. Thanks to that prick Pierce getting all egotistical, you’re not a ghost story anymore. But there’s hardly anything on you. HYDRA kept everything about you on paper, probably to guard against any kind of data breach that would have let Steve know you were alive. The stuff that was done here? Well, everybody knows what HYDRA tried to do in DC. You were a prisoner of war, tortured and brainwashed for seventy years. You’re not responsible for what HYDRA made you do.” Clint shrugged. “That’s the angle Tony’s working on anyway. Knowing Tony, it’s all going to go the way he wants it to.”

Bucky stared at Clint, speechless. That couldn’t be right. His memory was mostly back, and he knew what he’d done. What he was. That couldn’t...

“Why? Why would Stark be doing this?”

“Because he’s a good guy, under all the billions and the bluster. And because Steve asked him for help.”

“God damn it, Steve.”

Bucky hung his head, thinking. Clint finished his coffee, content to let Bucky have some quiet. Finally, Bucky sighed heavily.

“It won’t change anything. For me. I still did all of it. Everything they asked for.”

Barton’s eyes held an understanding Bucky didn’t know what to do with. “I know. Still nice to walk down the street without worrying every second that you’re about to be arrested. Nice not to hide, right?”

He hadn’t given himself a chance to think about it, what it might be like to have some semblance of a life. He’d tried it in Romania, had spent the last six months of his freedom there. But he was an America, a Brooklyn boy down to his bones, and he'd known that he'd need to go home eventually. Settling in New York meant worrying every day that he would be recognized. That his fragile peace could be shattered.

Being left in peace seemed too much to hope for so he ignored that, asked the other question that seemed important. “You talk about this stuff like you understand exactly what I’m going through.”

“Not exactly.” Clint tugged a flash drive from his front pocket, handed it over. “I’m not going to talk about it. I’ve got Tasha and therapists for that. But I’ve read your files; only seems fair you have mine. You read that, destroy it when you’re done, and then we don’t talk about it.”

“Okay.” The word came out tentative because Bucky was completely lost.

Barton cracked a smile. “I like this friendship thing we’re doing. I don’t want it to only be because of the shitty things we have in common.”

➳✪➳

Bucky took the flash drive back to his little place in Queens. He already had his laptop as secure as it could be. The skills he’d been taught as the Asset were still there. Sometimes, he worried about what that meant. Others they came in damn handy. He skimmed through the information quickly, read it a second time and then a third, slowly. His stomach ached and he tasted bile in the back of his throat, even though he hadn’t been sick. Christ, he got it now. Why Barton was so understanding.

He did an internet search, came up with a lot of nothing. Very little had been reported on Agent Barton during the Battle of New York. There are shots of him fighting side by side with each of the Avengers, very little speculation as to where he was leading up to the battle. When the Widow had dumped S.H.I.E.L.D. files, she’d spared nothing and no one. Except Barton. 

His sleep that night was broken by nightmares, worse than they’d been in a while. He was grumpy the next morning, but still went out and waited for Clint to find him. He brought extra-large coffees this time, and some pastries that were still warm. Bucky took them gratefully. 

“You were still S.H.I.E.L.D., after New York.” He felt Clint tense next to him, knew the man had said they weren’t going to talk about it but he had to know. “And an Avenger. You weren’t in DC.”

Some of the tension left Clint as he sipped at his coffee. “No. Fury had been teaming Tasha up with Steve and they had a good rhythm going. I would have been sent in when shit hit the fan but, umm. I kinda had a personal thing to deal with.”

Bucky decided not to ask about that, figuring Clint would have told him if he’d wanted to. He let it go, changed the topic to Steve, and could see that Clint was grateful.

“Social media said Steve was off to DC again.”

“Stalker.”

“Yeah, yeah. Spill, man. What’s he doing?”

“Seeing Sam, trying to talk him into coming to New York and being an Avenger full time.”

Bucky recognized that feeling in his gut, the jealousy bright and sharp. He ignored it, quietly finished off his coffee and pastry. If Clint noticed his upset, he didn’t say anything.

“He’s also working with Hill and some big shots. They definitely want S.H.I.E.L.D. up and running again. Steve wants a say in how that goes.”

Bucky got it, even if he didn’t like it. There were always going to be agencies like S.H.I.E.L.D. He got up to throw his trash away, walked off some of the agitation. After a few minutes, Clint joined him and then began their customary walk. Clint was the one to break their silence.

“You could come visit, you know.” 

“Where? The Tower?”

“Sure.”

Bucky snorted a laugh. “Pretty sure that wouldn’t work the way you seem to think it will.”

“Why not? Steve would be thrilled.”

“He would,” Bucky admitted. “Less thrilled when I left again.” And he would leave, wasn’t ready to stay that close to his friend just yet. “Then there’s the rest of your team.”

Clint seemed genuinely surprised by that. “What about them?”

“I tried to kill Steve, and you think they’re just going to be cool with me hanging out in their living room?”

Clint shrugged. “Nat and I try to kill each other all the time. It’ll be fine.”

“You guys are really strange.”

Clint didn’t disagree.

➳✪➳

Clint brought it up often after that. Not enough to make Bucky angry, just often enough that Bucky could tell he meant it. He thought about telling Clint to back off, actually trusted that he would, but couldn’t quite make himself do it. It was... nice. The idea that he could have somewhere to go, where he wouldn’t have to be alone all the time.

Clint somehow seemed to get that without Bucky telling him. He talked about all of Stark’s tech that made living in the Tower awesome, but he just as often talked about the team.

“We did a movie and pizza night last night. We’re all a bunch of suckers for Disney and I can’t even tell you how that happened. That’s one of the few things we agree on though. Had to start taking turns picking movies like we’re kids.”

Or

“Tried to do game night. Holy shit. Never play Monopoly with a billionaire. Or Steve. He kept insisting we play by the 1935 rules. How the hell does he even remember what those were?”

Or

“Can’t believe you’ve been missing _Dog Cops_ all this time. We can do a marathon. I’ll even make you popcorn. I’m allowed to use the microwave. Not the stove though. Not unsupervised. I get distracted and set shit on fire.”

It was a perfectly gorgeous, and uneventful, Wednesday when Clint showed up later than usual and without coffee. They still don’t set up times to meet – Bucky doesn’t have a phone, and they don’t prearrange things during their meetings – though Clint usually arrived wherever Bucky was within a half an hour. Bucky had been in the dog park for nearly an hour when he finally spied Clint. 

“You slipping, Barton?”

A little ghost of a smile was all he got before Clint slumped down onto the bench with a yawn. “Late night. Had that thing to finish.”

Clint had been gone for almost a week, digging up information Steve had asked for regarding some old S.H.I.E.L.D. files. Bucky could admit to himself that he’d missed Clint, had even chosen the park specifically to get a smile out of him. It was concerning that the sight of all the dogs frolicking in the sun wasn’t getting any response at all.

“Hey, you okay?”

Clint nodded slowly. “Tired. Long couple of days. Might need to cut this short and go home. Take a nap.”

He sounded regretful about it. That helped a little, knowing Clint enjoyed their time as much as he did. Still, Bucky was willing to sacrifice their outing in order to let Clint get the rest he clearly needed. 

“Want me to walk you back part of the way?” Bucky asked. At least that way they still had some time.

Clint made a noise suspiciously like a whine and leaned into Bucky. “Want to hang out.”

Bucky fought a smile. “Thought you wanted a nap.”

“Ugh,” was Clint’s only response.

Bucky was content to let Clint do whatever he wanted until Clint slouched down more, his head resting against Bucky’s shoulder. It was far more physical contact than they normally shared. Bucky would have been happier about that if Clint’s skin wasn’t burning hot. He shifted on the bench, brought his right hand to Clint’s forehead.

“Jesus, Clint. You’re sick.”

“’m not sick,” Clint mumbled, then promptly broke into a hacking cough.

Icy fear slid down Bucky’s spine. Rationally, he knew Clint wasn’t Steve. That didn’t stop his mind from playing a litany of all the times Steve had been sick when they were growing up, all the times he’d sat by Steve’s bedside, afraid he was going to lose his best friend.

“We need to get you home.”

“Yeah, probably right.” Clint yawned again. “Sorry, Buck. We’ll hang out more tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry about that right now. Come on, let’s get you up.”

He helped Clint get to his feet, noticed that Clint was less than steady as they made their way outside the park. Out on the sidewalk, Clint fumbled his phone out of his pocket.

“Gonna call an Uber. Don’t feel like walking,” Clint told him. “You don’t need to wait with me.”

“Not like I have a busy social schedule,” Bucky said, proud of how even his voice sounded.

It didn’t take long for the car to come. Bucky bundled Clint into it, barely thought twice about climbing in after him.

“’m fine, Buck,” Clint protested. “You don’t have to come back with me.”

“I’m not. Just going to kick you to the curb when we get there, have this nice lady take off and leave you.”

Clint snickered, slumped down to rest against Bucky. Bucky’s anxiety was a constant clang in his brain, and he knew it wasn’t quieting down anytime soon. At the Tower, Bucky had to shake Clint several times to wake him, which did nothing for the alarm bells in his head. After ensuring with the driver that Clint had already paid, he took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and helped Clint out. Clint protested all the way.

“Stop it, Buck. ‘m fine. You can just leave me here.”

“You have no idea how much you sound like Steve.”

Clint’s eyes were fever-bright, full of misery. “I know you don’t want to be here.”

“No big deal,” Bucky lied. “I’ll help you in, make sure somebody can get you the rest of the way. Then I can disappear. Doubt anybody will even notice.”

It was a sign of how out of it Clint was that he accepted that lie without another argument and allowed Bucky to lead him forward. Before they came close to the entrance, Clint steered them around toward an alley.

“No media so Tony and Steve are out. We can go around this way, toward the parking garage. Private elevator.”

The words brought on another coughing fit, and Bucky tightened his hold on Clint’s waist. They made it into the elevator without seeing anyone, for which Bucky was grateful. Inside, Clint punched the number for a floor and slumped against the elevator wall. A quiet ping had Bucky going tense.

“Agent Barton, you are in some distress. Should I divert the elevator to medical?”

Clint waved the disembodied voice off. “Just a cold. Don’t know why everyone is freaking out.”

“You know the rules, Agent Barton.”

Clint sighed heavily. “I haven’t been shot, stabbed, or poisoned. Nobody yeeted me out a window. I’m not bleeding. Give me a break, JARVIS.”

Oh, so that was Stark’s AI. He wasn’t sure why Clint talked to it like it was a person. Then there was a very human-like sigh from the elevator speakers.

“Very well, Agent Barton. We will continue on to your floor.”

When the elevator opened onto a short hallway, Bucky helped Clint move forward, the pair pausing as JARVIS apparently unlocked Clint’s door for him. Once inside, Clint made a beeline for the sofa, flopping gracelessly onto the cushions.

“Will you at least let me scan your vitals?” 

JARVIS’s voice came from the vicinity of the ceiling. The future was a very strange place, Bucky knew this already. But sometimes it was very cool.

“Go ahead,” Clint told the AI wearily.

“Are you alright with receiving this information with Sergeant Barnes present?”

“Yeah, long as Bucky is.”

There was silence and Bucky realized the computer was waiting on him. “Oh. Uh. I’m fine if Clint is.”

There was a brief pause before JARVIS spoke again. “Your temperature is 101.2 and your lungs sound congested. I do not detect any serious concerns at this time. I will order medication for you from medical and have it brought to your floor. I’ll continue to monitor your condition throughout the day, Agent Barton.”

“Thanks, J.”

There was a quiet click, and when the silence stretched out, Bucky assumed the AI was gone. He went over to stand awkwardly by the sofa.

“I should go. Now that you’re home okay.”

Thing was, he really didn’t want to. His brain refused to let go of the way Clint had sounded earlier in the park; that wet, raspy cough.

“Can,” Clint said, and he wouldn’t quite meet Bucky’s eyes. “Or you can stay. Steve’s still with Sam.”

It was a risk. Small enough that Bucky could shrug it off in favor of watching over Clint. “I could stay,” he said casually. “My dance card ain’t exactly full right now.”

Clint gave him a small version of his sunshine smile, and Bucky was glad he’d made the decision. “’kay. I’m going to take a little nap, be fine after that. You can watch TV or whatever. If you need something, just ask JARVIS. On this floor, he’s programmed to listen for his name.”

There was so much interesting information there that Bucky was just dying to ask about. It was going to have to wait; Clint was already out, snoring softly. Bucky covered him with the blanket from the back of the sofa before moving to sit on the chair opposite. He settled in, perfectly content for the moment to watch over Clint.


	2. Chapter 2

Clint woke disoriented; his mouth dry, shivering slightly. He was covered in sweat, knew his fever had broken. That was good. He hated being sick. He could vaguely remember waking up several times that afternoon and into the night. Bucky had always been there with meds and….

Bucky. Shit.

He shot up off the sofa, got tangled in the blanket, and fell on his ass. The hushed whispering that had barely registered stopped and then Bucky was kneeling next to him, helping him up. Bucky got him settled back on the sofa, sitting up this time. His hand was warm, and Clint had fuzzy memories of Bucky rubbing his back whenever Clint had a coughing fit. 

Bucky spoke before Clint could.

“JARVIS? Could you check, please?”

Clint blinked in surprise, wondering when Bucky had gotten so comfortable with the AI.

“Vitals are normal, Sergeant Barnes. The remnants of the cough should ease once Agent Barton has spent some time sitting up.”

“Told you I was fine, Buck. Just needed a quick nap.”

Bucky gave him a half-hearted glare. “Quick one, huh? It’s Friday, Clint.”

“I… no shit?”

“No shit.”

Bucky was watching him, concern obvious on his face. Clint shoved down the warm feelings caused by the fact that Bucky had stayed the whole time. Only Natasha ever stayed with him when he was sick, and it wasn’t….

The fact that he’d thought he’d heard voices earlier slammed him back into awareness, and he jerked to look at the kitchen area. It wasn’t Natasha sitting on one of his bar stools, though, it was Tony Stark.

“Aww man,” Clint groaned.

Tony threw back his head and laughed in genuine amusement. “Nice to see you, too, Legolas.”

“How’d you find out?”

Tony slid off the stool and joined them in the living area. “I always figured you’d sneak a dog into the Tower, not an assassin.”

“Ex-assassin,” Bucky said heatedly, and it sounded like he’d had the same argument with Tony before.

“Ex-assassin,” Tony agreed. “I can’t believe you’ve known where Steve’s BFF has been this whole time. You’re going to be so grounded, Barton.”

Clint sighed. “I didn’t know the whole time. Just like a month or so.”

“Still. He’s off to Romania right now, when his ex-cuddle bunny is right here, shacked up with you.”

“Romania?” 

“He got a lead,” Tony said. “Clearly, the information was old. I was just telling Terminator here…”

“My name is James.”

Now Bucky was exasperated, and yeah. He’d clearly been talking to Tony for a while.

“I was telling James,” Tony continued. “That he should let me call Steve and get him back here. It’s cruel to let him traipse all over Europe when James is in his backyard.”

Bucky’s shoulders hunched, and Clint turned a glare on Tony. “Don’t, Tony. It isn’t up to us when Bucky contacts Steve. Bucky wouldn’t even be here if I hadn’t gotten sick.”

He turned to look at Bucky, guilt churning in his stomach. “I’m really sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Bucky said. “I didn’t have to stay.”

“Why did you? I know you aren’t ready to be here.”

“I wanted to be here.”

Bucky said it like it was just that simple and Clint had to duck his head against a rush of pleasure. When he looked up again, Tony was looking between the two of them speculatively. Tony spoke before Clint could.

“You should stay then. There’s plenty of empty floors. You pick one, I can have it ready in a few days.”

“Or you could stay in my spare bedroom,” Clint’s mouth said without permission from his brain.

“Or you could stay with Hawkguy,” Tony agreed, amused.

Bucky was watching Clint, an unreadable expression on his face. “I guess…”

“Good!” Tony clapped his hands. “You stay here, Steve gets his BFF back. Though it looks like you might be Barton’s BFF now. We’ll work that out. JARVIS already likes you. One question.”

Bucky’s expression had slid to one of puzzlement. Clint had seen that expression in plenty of people while in Tony’s presence. “What question?”

“Why does he get to call you Bucky? You told me your name was James.”

“Because he’s my friend.”

Tony grunted. “Fine. We’ll work on that. Now, about telling Steve.”

Bucky shook his head. “Not yet. I’ll stay. Try it, anyway. But I need… just a few days?”

The plea in Bucky’s voice had Clint reaching out to squeeze his arm. “Nobody is going to force you. We’ll think of something so Steve at least knows you’re safe.”

He got a tentative smile. “No. I hate to say it but Stark is right. If I’m staying in New York, staying in Steve’s home, I have to tell him.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Excellent,” Tony said. “Think I’ll go down to the workshop, see if I can blow something up.”

“Sir? Ms. Potts has put a moratorium on explosions for the rest of the month.”

“Damn. Guess I’ll just build something then. See you two at dinner tomorrow.”

He swept out, leaving silence behind him. After a few minutes, Clint cleared his throat.

“So. That’s, uh, Stark.”

Bucky relaxed back against the sofa, seemingly relieved that they were alone. “He’s something else.”

“How’d you two meet anyway? We usually only hang out on the common floor.”

“I was worried.” Bucky picked at the hem of his shirt. “You weren’t staying awake for very long at a time, and you weren’t eating much. JARVIS said you were okay but…”

He trailed off, still not looking at Clint. Clint didn’t press. He was still learning Bucky, but knew enough already to know that Bucky would talk to him when he was ready.

“Thank you, for taking care of me.”

That got a little smile. “You were a much better patient than Steve.”

Clint laughed. “Nobody in medical would believe that.” He stretched out the kinks that came with sleeping on the couch for two days. “Hey, I’m going to shower. Try to get human again. Want to order some food? I’m starving.”

Bucky brightened at that. “That’s a good sign. You need soup or what?”

Clint pondered the state of his stomach for a minute. “Nah, my stomach’s not upset, just empty. How do you feel about pizza?”

“Haven’t had any since I’ve been back in New York.”

Clint stared, aghast. “We have to fix that, right now. JARVIS?”

“Hello, Agent Barton. I’m happy to hear that you are feeling better.”

“Thanks, J. Can you help Bucky order pizza from my favorite place?”

“Of course.”

Clint patted Bucky’s shoulder. “JARVIS will help you with the menu. Pick whatever you want. JARVIS already knows what I like.”

Clint headed for the shower, trusting dinner to JARVIS and Bucky.

➳✪➳

Despite the unconsciousness of the past two days, Clint still went to bed early and ended up sleeping like a log. Bucky took the spare bedroom for the first time, having been sleeping in the recliner while Clint was sick. That gave Clint that warm feeling again, knowing Bucky had been watching over him.

He felt better when he woke up on Saturday, almost back to one hundred percent. He and Bucky had donuts and coffee before heading out to Bucky’s safe house to gather his things. Neither he nor Bucky were all that comfortable with public transportation, so they ended up in cab. They got out a few blocks from the apartment building, a habit Clint recognized. They walked in a somewhat awkward silence that Bucky ended up being the one to break.

“You’re quiet this morning. Regretting your invite?”

“No! I just…” Clint rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “I feel like Tony railroaded you in. I know this isn’t what you want.”

“It is, and it isn’t,” Bucky said quietly. “I knew when I came back to New York I was going to see Steve. I guess putting it off just made it harder and now I just don’t know what to expect.”

“Steve will be happy, you know that.”

“I hope so.”

They entered the apartment building, Clint following Bucky up to the fifth floor. Bucky’s safe house was on the small side, old but clean. Everything in it screamed that there was a solo occupant, and Clint was fiercely glad that Bucky had agreed to move.

“You know I meant it, right?”

Bucky looked up from where he was stuffing clothes into a duffle bag. “Meant what?”

“That I don’t regret offering you my spare room. Just, you know. If you want your own space, Tony wasn’t lying. He’s got plenty of empty floors.”

Bucky shook his head, attention staying on his bag. “No, I, uh, I’d rather share. Been alone a long time, you know?”

“Yeah. I used to live in the S.H.I.E.L.D. barracks. Always somebody around. The Tower is never empty but…” He shrugged. “It’ll still be nice to have company.”

There was a small, pleased smile on Bucky’s lips as he finished packing, and Clint had that warm feeling in his chest again. He’d worry about that later.

➳✪➳

Bucky settled in easier than Clint would have expected. He’d already made friends with JARVIS while Clint was sick, seemed to delight in picking the AI’s brain about anything and everything that struck his fancy. When Clint asked about it, he’d shrugged and mentioned that he’d loved science, back in the day.

He seemed hesitant around Tony, though Clint figured that made sense. Tony was a lot to take when you didn’t know him well. Hell, sometimes even when you did. Plus, he had a somewhat unhealthy obsession with getting a peek at Bucky’s arm. So far, Bucky was holding him off.

Bruce was in residence, for the moment, and Bucky wandered down to the lab often. He liked to sit quietly, watching the experiments Banner ran. Bruce seemed to take the new resident in stride, enjoyed bouncing ideas off Bucky. He had a quick, sharp mind that didn’t run in the same directions that Bruce or Tony’s did and it made for interesting conversations.

The only bump in the road was Bucky meeting Natasha. He remembered shooting her – both times – and though she didn’t hold a grudge, Bucky was clearly uncomfortable in her presence. Outside of Bucky, though, Clint spent the most time with Natasha and she was a frequent visitor to Clint’s floor. Clint figured exposure therapy would help, and unless Bucky truly objected to her hanging out in what was now his space, Clint was going to let it ride.

Bucky had been in the Tower less than a week when he came to find Clint shooting on the range. He used the gym frequently, though he hadn’t yet joined in on any of the team sparring. He never stepped foot on the range so Clint was surprised to see him.

“What’s up?”

“I think it’s time to call Steve.”

Clint put his bow down, gave Bucky his full attention. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” Bucky’s voice was steady and sure. “I’m ready. Just. Will you be there with me?”

“Of course, Buck. As long as you need me.”

Bucky gave him a grateful smile. “Can we do it now?”

“Yep. Let me put my bow away.”

“Okay, I’ll be outside.”

Clint hurried through packing his bow away, not wanting to give Bucky any more reason to stress. He joined Bucky, and they headed to his floor together, Bucky unusually quiet. In the apartment, they settled on the sofa, Clint grabbing his cell phone.

“JARVIS could put this on conference but I’m guessing you want a little privacy.”

Bucky took a deep breath, nodded at Clint. Clint dialed Steve’s number, hoping he answered. He didn’t want Bucky to have to wait. Luckily Steve answered on the second.

“Hey, Clint.” Steve’s voice held surprised pleasure. “Wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”

“Hi Cap. You got a minute free? This is important.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just have someone here that needs to talk to you.”

There was dead silence on the line before Steve’s voice came back, shaking. “Clint…”

Clint handed the phone to Bucky, who swallowed hard. “Hey, Stevie.”

“Bucky? God, it’s really you.”

“Yeah.”

Clint moved to stand up, give them privacy. Bucky’s hand shot out, fingers closing around Clint’s wrist. His eyes were pleading and there was no way Clint was going anywhere.

“You okay, Buck?”

“Good to hear your voice.”

Bucky’s own was rough with emotion and Clint twisted his hand, linking his fingers with Bucky’s. Bucky held on tight.

“Good to hear yours too. I’ve been looking for you.”

“I know. I’m not sorry I ran. I had to. But I am sorry that you were worried.”

“It’s okay, Buck. I understand. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“I am. I’m here in the Tower.”

“Can I… will you be there? If I come home?”

Bucky’s eyes closed, throat working, and Clint squeezed his hand. “I will. I promise. I... Stark said I could stay, and Clint gave me a room. I’ll explain everything, just… come home, Stevie?”

Steve let out a wet sounding laugh. “Think that was supposed to be my line, but yeah. I’ll be there as quick as we can push this damn Quinjet.”

Bucky hung up, handed the phone back to Clint. He was shaking, and Clint didn’t even think twice about it before pulling Bucky into a hug. Bucky clung to him; face pressed into the crook Clint’s neck. Clint held on tight, neither of them saying a word.

➳✪➳

The atmosphere in the Tower was strained as everyone awaited Steve’s arrival. Clint’s normal coping mechanism would be to hit the range to work out the tension. He couldn’t do that, not when Bucky didn’t want to be around weapons, so he ended up aimlessly wandering the common floor. Bucky himself was seated at the island, an untouched cup of coffee in front of him. Bruce wandered in and out, quietly checking on Bucky. Tony was sitting in the living room, tablet open as he talked with JARVIS about a project. He was uncharacteristically still, and Clint knew he wouldn’t move until Steve arrived.

Natasha arrived with a bakery box full of goodies. She took a brownie to Tony, along with fresh coffee, and he gave her a beaming smile. She winked back, made her way over to Clint. She let him pick a monstrosity of an M&M cookie that would have probably fed an entire kindergarten class without picking on him for his sugar intake. He kissed her cheek, she rolled her eyes, and Clint’s shoulders found their way back down. It was going to be okay.

Natasha took the box over to the island and sat opposite Bucky. She chose an éclair for herself, nudged the box toward Bucky. He glanced at it, smiled wanly.

“I’m not sure I can eat anything.”

His voice was quiet, though Clint could hear him fine. He started to move closer, caught Natasha’s shake of her head, and detoured to sit with Tony instead.

“What are you worried about?”

“Shorter to tell you what I’m not worrying about.”

She made a quiet humming sound. “Did you know that I’m the one that brought him the Winter Soldier file after DC? One of the very few we ended up finding.”

Bucky lifted his head to look at her. “Why would you do that? Help him find me?”

“Because he asked. He was going to look for you one way or another.”

“I don’t know why he wouldn’t just give up. Knowing what I did.”

“What was done to you.”

Bucky’s shoulders hunched. “You seem to think that makes a difference.”

“It does. Maybe not to you, yet. Not in here,” she said, tapping a temple. “That will get better.”

Bucky didn’t seem convinced, and Clint couldn’t blame him. Bucky had decades to work through; a year wasn’t enough time to see that there might be a light somewhere at the end of that tunnel.

“I’m not the guy Steve remembers.”

Natasha nodded, took a sip of her tea. “There’s enough of him in you that you came here, to New York. We both know that with your skill set you could have dropped off the grid and Steve never would have found even a trace.”

Bucky shrugged one shoulder. “Couldn’t do that him. Hurt him like that.”

Natasha smiled softly. “That’s a start.”

Bucky didn’t say anything else, but he did reach for the box and choose a cookie. Clint caught Nat’s eye and she smiled at him. He took that as permission, got up to grab Bucky’s coffee and reheat it in the microwave. Bruce wandered back in, saw the box, and grinned. He came over to help himself to a tart, sitting down next to Bucky. Tony put his tablet aside and brought his treat to the island as well, choosing a seat on the other side of Bruce. Clint topped off his own coffee, grabbed Bucky’s, and joined them at the counter. Bucky seemed startled at first, being surrounded by the whole team, but then he relaxed.

“It’s good that you’re all here. In case…”

He trailed off, and it took Clint a second to realize what he was implying. Anger surged, and he had to keep a tight rein on it.

“We’re not here to protect Steve from you.”

Bucky’s eyes were wide. “I don’t understand.”

“We’re here for moral support or whatever. Dumb ass.”

“Nice, Clint.” Natasha’s tone was full of fond amusement.

There was faint color on Bucky’s cheekbones. “I didn’t…”

“Didn’t realize you have awesome super people who are working on being friends with you?” Tony asked, most of his attention on the box he was digging through looking for another brownie. “Do you think just anyone lives in this Tower?”

“You do have floors for all of us,” Bruce said. “And Thor. And Sam.”

Tony dismissed that with a wave of his hand. “All Avengers. Or will be when the other bird boy stops being so stubborn.”

“I’m not an Avenger,” Bucky said.

“No, just Avengers adjacent. For now.”

There was definite shock on Bucky’s face now. Clint reached out to rest a hand on the small of Bucky’s back, feeling how tight he was holding himself. 

“Can we table that for now?” Clint asked. “Today is a lot already.”

Bucky shot him a grateful smile before turning back to the group. “You’re really not here to make sure I don’t hurt Steve?”

Clint hated how small his voice sounded and couldn’t resist rubbing gently at Bucky’s back. Tony leaned around Bruce to make eye contact with Bucky.

“If we thought you were a danger to Steve, you’d never have made it within six blocks of the Tower.”

Bucky subsided after that. The table was the usual controlled chaos that seemed to happen any time there were more than three Avengers together. Clint slid his chair closer to Bucky’s, kept his hand on Bucky’s back.

“Doing okay?”

“Honestly? Yeah. Still nervous.” His eyes locked on Clint’s, and Clint noticed (not for the first time) just how insanely blue they were. “You won’t let me hurt him.”

“Never.”

Bucky nodded sharply. “You’re a good friend.”

“Hey, I’m your friend too. You get that right? It’s not just about Steve. Hurting him would hurt you. I wouldn’t let that happen.” Clint tipped his head to indicate the group. “We’re all here for you as much as him.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to get that.”

“Good.” Clint reluctantly put a little space between them. “Now give me some of that peanut butter cookie.”

Bucky scooted right back into Clint’s space, broke off a portion of the cookie. “Only if I get some of that M&M one. You got plenty to share, Barton.”

Clint made a show of grumbling about it as he broke off a section of cookie. He ignored the knowing look he was getting from Natasha and let himself soak into the warmth of Bucky along his side.

➳✪➳

Steve must have pushed the Quinjet to the max because JARVIS was announcing his arrival well before Clint had expected. Bucky was fidgeting, though he was clearly calmer than he had been. Tony, Bruce, and Natasha had moved to the sofas, and had a cooking show running in the background while they talked. It was obvious that no one was actually paying attention to anything other than Steve’s imminent arrival. Clint frowned.

“Hey. Do you want us to clear out?” He ignored Tony’s glare. “Give you and Steve some privacy.”

Bucky’s smile was small but genuine. “No, it’s okay. It’s better with you here.”

Clint thought there might have been the slightest emphasis on the ‘you’, like Bucky really meant it was better with _Clint_ specifically there. That set off butterflies in his stomach, which he ignored. There were much more important things to worry about here. He could figure out where those stupid butterflies came from later.

They all heard the soft ding of the elevator, the muffled sound of booted feet on the carpet outside that announced Steve’s presence. Bucky’s smile became a real grin.

“Even when he was smaller, he sounded like a damn herd of elephants. Drove his ma nuts when he would run up and down their stairs.”

Clint grinned back before turning as the door flew open. Steve’s gaze immediately found Bucky, those big shoulders slumping in relief when he realized his friend was actually there. He stopped, one hand still gripping the doorknob. Clint knew everyone heard the groan of metal as Steve’s hand gripped too tight.

“Well, get in here, Spangles,” Tony said. “And stop breaking my shit with your ridiculous paws.”

Steve did let go of the doorknob, took a hesitant step closer before stopping. His eyes had never left Bucky. “Hey, Buck.”

Steve was practically vibrating. Clint looked back to Bucky. Bucky had relaxed, his agitation vanishing in the face of Steve’s. 

“That all you got after seventy years? Just a ‘Hey, Buck’?”

There was so much emotion on Steve’s face that it hurt Clint to watch him. Steve swallowed hard, took another step forward.

“You’re still an asshole.”

“Just get over here, will you?”

That was all it took before Steve crossed the room practically at a run, grabbing Bucky into a hug so tight it looked like he’d never let go. Clint saw the flash of fear on Bucky’s face before it smoothed out and he hugged Steve back. They clung to one another, and Clint couldn’t keep watching. It felt wrong. Like spying, but worse because he’d never gotten this uncomfortable feeling in his gut when he was actually spying on people. 

Deciding the two friends could use some privacy, he went into the kitchen area to start a fresh pot of coffee. Natasha joined him, leaning back against the counter and watching him closely.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“No reason.”

There was definitely a reason, Clint just didn’t know what it was. Deciding he could add that to the pile of stuff to think about later, he busied himself with pulling mugs out of the cupboard while the coffee brewed.

“Feels like we should have let them do this alone,” he said to Natasha. “This is…”

He couldn’t come up with the word he wanted, and it left him frustrated. Natasha smiled at him. “I don’t think Bucky agrees with you.”

Startled, Clint turned around to look into the living room. Bucky and Steve had migrated to a sofa, Steve turned to face Bucky. His hands hovered, like he still wasn’t sure Bucky was really there. Bucky was clearly only half paying attention to Steve, his anxiety clear on his face. When he caught Clint’s eye, he relaxed immediately. Clint gave him a reassuring smile, held up a coffee cup. Bucky gave a sharp nod before turning all of his attention to Steve. Clint turned back to the counter, only to see Natasha smiling knowingly at him.

“What?”

Natasha just laughed. “You’ll figure it out.”

➳✪➳

By unspoken agreement, the team stayed close together for the rest of the day. The awkwardness eased the longer Steve and Bucky were together, though neither man seemed willing to move too far away from the other. Steve always had a hand on Bucky, which didn’t surprise Clint. Steve was like with that the whole team, always squeezing a shoulder or patting a back. His habits had infected the team to varying degrees and they had become a touchy-feely bunch, at least with one another. Clint liked it, liked the physical affection, and he knew he wasn’t the only one who had never gotten it as a kid. Bucky had to be starving for that contact, though he really only ever let Clint touch him. Now he was leaning into Steve’s side, at ease in a way Clint had never seen him before.

He was happy for Bucky, and for Steve. He was! He was just… going to miss Bucky, that was all.

Sam joined them for dinner, which helped. Clint liked Sam, liked his sense of humor and the way he took no shit at all from Steve. There was a slightly tense moment when he stood in front of Bucky for the first time. Bucky had broken the silence.

“Sorry about, you know. Ripping your wing off.”

Sam studied him for a minute before nodding. “Sorry about trying to shoot you in the face.”

Bucky frowned. “You… didn’t do that?”

Sam’s grin flashed. “Nah, but I thought about it.”

The resulting laughter had lightened the mood, and they’d all been happy when they sat down to eat. Tony had a catered meal brought in to celebrate the reunion, and it was one of the best team dinners Clint could remember. 

By unspoken agreement, the team broke off after dinner, everyone off to do their own thing. Clint pulled Bucky aside.

“You doing okay?”

Bucky nodded. “It’s a lot. Not in a bad way.”

“I’m going to hit the range for a while. Give you guys some time alone.”

Bucky reached out to squeeze Clint’s hand. “Thank you. That’s not enough, for what you’ve been doing for me. For being there for this.”

“You don’t have to thank me. We’re friends, Bucky.”

Bucky gave him a beaming smile before leaving to join Steve on the sofa. Clint didn’t linger, let the call of the range pull him away. Shooting would clear his mind, it always did.

➳✪➳

When Clint got up the next morning, he wasn’t surprised to see that Bucky’s bed hadn’t been slept in. He was leaning against the counter, half asleep while coffee brewed, when Bucky did come in. He looked exhausted, though his eyes sparkled with humor when he saw Clint.

“Awake enough to pour me one too?”

Clint grunted, pulled out a second mug. Bucky was always a cheery morning person, the fucker. Apparently still managed it even when he hadn’t had any sleep at all. His mind wandered off, came back when Bucky gently steered him to sit at the island.

“I got it. Sit down before you hurt yourself.”

This was familiar. Too many years as a government agent meant Clint was almost always up earlier than he wanted to be. Bucky was always awake first, usually had coffee made when Clint stumbled out of his bedroom. He dropped onto a bar stool, propped himself on his elbows on the island to watch Bucky make coffee and toast. Clint didn’t like to eat a bigger meal until he’d been awake for a couple of hours. Bucky never forgot that, always made sure that Clint had something small with his first cups of coffee in the morning. He sighed, spoke before he could think better of it.

“Going to miss you making me breakfast like this.”

Bucky shot a look over his shoulder. “It’s only toast, right now, and why would you have to miss it?”

Clint’s caffeine deprived brain tried to work that out. “You’d come back here just to make me breakfast?”

Bucky turned to face him, clearly confused. “Am I going somewhere?”

“Uh, yeah. You’re moving in with Steve.”

“That’s news to me.”

Clint blinking, trying to make those words make sense. “You’re not moving in with Steve?”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Bucky’s expression closed off. “Are you kicking me out?”

“No! I just… it’s Steve. I figured you’d want to spend time with him.”

“I can do that without living with him. Unless you want me to go.”

“No, Bucky, it’s not that, I swear.” Clint could see that Bucky was upset, and that was the last thing he wanted. “I don’t want you to go. I like sharing my space with you.”

Bucky studied Clint’s face for a long moment, and Clint hoped that he could see how sincere Clint was. He must have because his expression cleared and he smiled at Clint.

“Hang on a minute.”

Bucky brought the coffee and toast to the table, went back to grab the peanut butter from the cupboard and jelly from the fridge. He settled in next to Clint, his knee knocking against Clint’s.

“You want to tell me why you thought I wanted to leave?”

Clint shrugged. “You and Steve were inseparable back in the day. All the stories say so. Hell, _Steve_ says so. You guys have been apart a long time.”

“He’s my family,” Bucky agreed. “I don’t have everything back, not from then. Might never get it back but I know how important Steve is to me.”

Clint had drained half his coffee already, was busy putting peanut butter on his toast. “His ugly mug broke through brainwashing, Buck. That’s rom com stuff.”

“I don’t think it actually worked like that.” Bucky frowned. “What do you mean by rom com? You think Steve and I…”

Clint winced. “Umm, am I supposed to say no homo or something? Cause that just seems offensive.”

“I’ve heard the phrase. Definitely doesn’t work here. Steve likes guys. And the ladies. I never did.”

Clint wasn’t sure why that was depressing. “I’ve seen those stories too. You were considered quite the ladies man.”

Bucky snorted. “Wasn’t like I could dance with guys, not in most places.”

Clint’s brain was very slow catching up. “Wait. You meant you didn’t like women like Steve did.”

“We definitely should be having this conversation when you’re awake and fully caffeinated.” 

“Oh, thank God.”

Bucky laughed at that. “For now, just know that I don’t want to live with Steve. I’m happy right where I’m at.”

“Can do, Buck.”

“Weirdo.” It sounded affectionate, and Clint couldn’t stop a stupid smile. “I’m exhausted. Gonna try and get some sleep. Steve wants to do a team lunch. That okay with you?”

“Sure. Want me to wake you up in time to grab a shower?”

Bucky pulled Clint to him for a quick, one-armed hug. “Thanks, Clint. Really. For everything.”

That warm feeling settled in Clint’s belly again, and he thought it might be sticking around for good.

➳✪➳

Bucky had been living in the Tower for a month now. They hadn’t actually picked up the conversation from the morning after Bucky’s meeting with Steve, but Clint no longer feared that Bucky was somehow going to disappear. He and Bucky still spent plenty of time one on one, almost as much as Steve and Bucky spent together. The team hung out the same as always, and it made Clint happy to see that Bucky’s relationships with everyone else were becoming real friendships. He knew Bucky had been afraid that people were tolerating him because of Steve. It was ridiculous, really, when you saw how well Bucky meshed with the group. Steve was clearly much happier, and that translated to the team. He was their captain (along with Tony, Clint could admit that), and his mood affected their dynamics. Clint knew that Steve was always more laid back with Natasha and Sam but now he was like that all the time, and it was good to see.

Clint wasn’t sure he’d ever say it out loud but it felt good to have this odd little family becoming so strong. He hadn’t had a family since he was a little kid, until Natasha, and it was nice to feel like that was growing. It made him more confident working with the Avengers in the future, knowing they’d have one another’s backs because they cared, and not just because they had to.

Of course, that didn’t stop them from kicking ass when they were training.

Clint was down on his knees beside the mat, one fist pounding on the corner.

“C’mon, Tony, don’t let him get away with that shit! You can… God damn you and your long legs, Steve.”

Steve laughed, rolled away from Tony as soon as Tony had tapped out. Clint grumbled, handed over a $20 bill to Natasha. She took it, smug.

“I have no idea why you bet against the super soldier.”

“Tony’s wily. Figured he had a shot,” Clint said.

“Would have too,” Tony said, draining a water bottle. “Fucking science.”

That made everyone laugh. Clint, as was becoming a habit, sought out Bucky. He was seated near the far corner of the mat where he could see every detail of each match. Clint knew that Bucky had no desire to fight. That might change, it might not, but Bucky was fully invested in making sure that the team was in top shape. As such, he watched them like a hawk, never interrupting the fun, but he’d have plenty of commentary when they all gathered for a briefing later. 

Clint went to sit by Bucky while Natasha challenged Steve. “You thinking about joining us later?”

Tony had changed out one of the bigger gyms into an obstacle course because Steve was obsessed with _American Ninja Warrior_. It was a fun way for them to blow off steam. Bucky glanced at Clint, then quickly away.

“I don’t know.”

Clint knocked his shoulder against Bucky’s. “It’s not training. I get why you aren’t comfortable with that, or the range. This is just fun, though.”

Bucky arched a brow. “And training isn’t?”

“Training is serious business,” Clint said solemnly.

“Is that why you tried to pants Steve when you were sparring earlier?”

“Oh, that. No, that was definitely for fun. Have you seen his ass?”

“Stop objectifying me, Barton,” Steve hollered from the other side of the mat.

“But you’re so pretty, Rogers!”

Clint turned back to Bucky to see him watching him with an odd expression.

“You think Steve is pretty?” Bucky asked carefully.

“Clint thinks everyone is pretty,” Tony said, coming over to sit near them. “He’s equal opportunity.”

“Not everyone,” Clint protested. “But Steve is aesthetically pleasing. Like that perfect piece of pizza with just the right amount of pepperoni on it.”

“Is everything food with you?” Steve asked as he and Natasha joined them.

“It’s close to lunch. What do you expect from me?” Clint asked.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Your appetite is as bad as mine and Bucky’s. You sure you’re not a super soldier?”

Clint lifted his shirt, patted his belly. “I’m a growing boy. And I’m on empty.”

Clint dropped his shirt, turned to ask Bucky where they should order from. Bucky jerked his gaze away, a flush on his cheeks. Clint frowned; that was weird. He shrugged it off, leaped to his feet. “Food! Then the ninja course.”

“Food, then a break, _then_ the ninja course,” Tony insisted. “I don’t want anyone throwing up on me.”

“That’s a fair point,” Clint conceded. “Let’s order pizza.”

“You always want pizza,” Tony complained.

“How about Chinese?” Steve asked. 

Natasha stood, brushed off her pants. “I’m going to shower then grab Bruce if we’re all going to be eating together.”

“You don’t want a vote on food?” Clint pouted. He really wanted the pizza but had to get someone else to agree with him.

Natasha smiled, on to him. “Chinese is fine with me.”

“Betrayer!” Clint yelled.

“We could do pizza and a movie tonight. At our place,” Bucky told Clint quietly.

“Ha. At least Bucky gets me.”

Natasha’s smile was knowing. Clint didn’t know what she could possibly know when it came to pizza and movies but whatever.

They dispersed, everyone heading to their respective floors to shower before meeting for lunch. When Bucky and Clint arrived on the common floor, Steve was already unpacking cartons of Chinese food from a ridiculous number of bags. Clint grabbed a pitcher of ice tea from the fridge while Bucky grabbed glasses then took a seat next to Bucky at the island. Tony brought over napkins and one of his weird smoothie things that Clint wouldn’t touch if he were starving in the desert. Clint started poking at the boxes, made a pleased noise when he discovered extra egg rolls. 

“Sweet. You do love me, Steve.”

“Bucky texted me to remind me they’re your favorite.”

There was a very Natasha-like expression on Steve’s face, and that was just all kinds of wrong. Steve shouldn’t be sharing looks with Clint’s best friend. Especially when they seemed to be about Clint and he didn’t have a clue what they meant.

Bucky mumbled something under his breath that Clint didn’t catch. Steve did, judging by the amused look Steve directed Bucky’s way. Bucky reached out to poke at Steve’s ribs with metal fingers, making Steve yelp and dance away. 

“Are you ticklish, Cupcake?” Tony sounded absolutely gleeful.

“No,” Steve answered, way too quickly for anyone in the room to believe that. “And stop calling me desserts.”

“But you’re such a dish, Stevie,” Bucky said, his tone full of such fake dreaminess that everyone lost it. 

Clint had to wipe tears from his eyes, he was laughing so hard. Bucky was looking down at the table, a pleased smile tugging at his lips. Steve sat down next to him, elbowed his side. Bucky elbowed him back.

“Shut it, punk.”

“I didn’t say anything, Buck.”

“Your face is saying it.”

“You two sound more like siblings every day,” Tony told them, barely looking up from his careful perusal of the cartons on the island.

Bucky’s smile brightened, and Clint had to force himself to look away. The man had a great smile; Clint could get used to seeing it.

➳✪➳

They met up late that afternoon, Clint arriving after Bucky. Bucky had wanted to go down alone and scout around for a bit. Clint had been in his room getting changed when Bucky left, and he walked into the gym with absolutely no warning about what he’d find. When he saw Bucky, he damn near tripped over his own feet.

Bucky was wearing the same type of workout pants that Steve always wore. Hell, that Clint himself wore. Somehow, he didn’t think his ass looked quite that good. And those thighs. Jesus Christ. Bucky’s jeans definitely didn’t do him justice. Then he turned around and when Clint was able to drag gaze off those thighs (and then other… things), he realized Bucky was in a sleeveless tank. He wore short sleeves a lot on their floor but he never had the arm completely uncovered. Despite where it came from and how Bucky had gotten it, it was a fucking work of art. Not that his right arm was any slouch. Christ, the guy had muscles for days. Clint could almost count the lines of his abs even through his shirt. How had Clint never noticed? 

He forced himself to walk over to Bucky and Steve, trying to ignore the weirdness. He had hot friends. It wasn’t like he was unaware of that. He could handle this. Bucky saw him coming and he gave Clint a small grin.

“What do you think?”

“It’s impressive,” Bucky said. “Steve says you guys can change it up too.”

“We can make it easier or harder, swap things out and in when we don’t like something,” Tony said as he joined them.

Clint looked him up and down, taking in the jeans and T-shirt. “Not running the course today?”

“Going to watch with our lovely celebrity judges today,” Tony jerked his thumb to wear Natasha and Bruce were seated on the sidelines. “I’ve got a few ideas for new obstacles but I want to watch, get a better feel for some things.” Tony shot a grin at Clint. “I did have the bots set up the salmon ladder today, just for you.”

Clint groaned. “Damn it, Tony.”

“What’s that?” Bucky asked. “Doesn’t sound familiar.”

“Tony’s giving me shit. There’s this TV show with an archer and the dude is always training shirtless. He does this exercise thing that’s mostly showing off his abs.”

“And biceps,” Tony interrupted.

“And biceps,” Clint repeated dutifully. “Tony bet me I couldn’t do it, I said I could, and voila. Tony built the damn set up.”

“Did you do it?” Bucky asked.

“Hell yeah, I did. I crush it. Even Steve’s time isn’t as good on that thing as mine is.”

“One of these days, Barton,” Steve replied.

“Keep telling yourself that, super soldier.” Clint clapped his hands together. “Fine. I’m going first.” He tugged off his shirt, making Natasha groan. He got a whistle from Tony and laughed. He turned, gave Bucky a wink. “It’s all about the gun show. And the abs.”

He didn’t stick around to decipher the look on Bucky’s face, adrenaline making him restless. Despite his teasing, he loved this fucking course. He took a minute to stretch at the beginning of the course then hopped up onto the starter platform. 

“Ready when you are, JARVIS.”

“Very good, Agent Barton.”

A large, red countdown appeared on the wall opposite Clint. When the buzzer sounded at one, Clint took off, clearing the floating steps with ease. He stepped onto the next platform, eyeing the salmon ladder. He leaped up, got a good grip on the bar. He tightened his core, pulled up on the bar, and jerked himself up. The bar made a satisfying clang as it hit the next rung, and he grinned. He could hear Natasha counting off each rung as he climbed higher. He hit the fifth and final bar, propelled himself forward and onto the next obstacle. The course was a blur, and he hit the final platform feeling pretty damn good. 

JARVIS called out his time as soon as he finished. “Twenty-one point two seconds, Agent Barton.”

“Little bit slow for you, bird brain,” Tony called from the sidelines.

“Might have had too many egg rolls,” Clint admitted.

Bucky was staring at him, clearly impressed, and Clint fought the urge to preen. “How the hell do you do that?”

“It’s not actually as hard as it looks. Let me show you.”

He spent a few minutes walking Bucky through the technique. Steve joined them, bouncing impatiently on the balls of his feet. “Going to get you this time, Barton.”

“Dream on, old man.”

He and Bucky moved to the end of the course to watch Steve take his turn. Steve was quick as hell, and strong, of course. But…

“He never can keep those ridiculous legs out of the way when he does the salmon ladder,” Clint told Bucky. 

Bucky was watching carefully, clearly studying Steve. “Too much swing.”

“Yep. You need a little bit of heft but most of your momentum needs to come from your arms and your core.”

Steve finished the course a couple of seconds slower than Clint had. Clint raised his arms and cheered, making Steve laugh.

“One of these days, Clint.”

“Not today,” Clint retorted.

Bucky made his way over to the starting platform, blue eyes carefully assessing. Clint reached out to grasp his wrist. 

“It’s just for fun, Buck. No stress.”

Bucky flashed him a grin. “Oh, it’s going to be fun alright.”

JARVIS started the countdown and Clint moved back to stand with Steve. They both watched in stunned amazement as Bucky obliterated the course. He didn’t even struggle on the ladder, clearly having worked out the logistics from watching Clint and Steve. Tony and Nat were yelling on the sidelines, and even Bruce was cheering Bucky on. He beat Clint’s time by about a second and a half but it was still an impressive run from someone who’d never done it before. He came down off the final platform, looking so satisfied that Clint couldn’t even be upset.

“Holy shit,” was all he could say.

Bucky laughed, let Steve throw a companionable arm across his shoulders. 

“I don’t know, Clint,” Steve said. “I think that left arm might be cheating on the ladder.”

Clint pretended to ponder it; Bucky rolled his eyes, smacked Steve’s stomach. “I can’t just take it off, you know. Arms don’t work like that, pal. Not even mine.”

“One-handed then.” 

Bucky looked between Clint and Steve. “Seriously? You don’t think that’s going to fuck up my balance or something?”

“Sure,” Clint said, grinning evilly. “That’s the challenge.”

“Fine, you’re on. But when I do it, you’re buying me pasta for dinner.” Bucky’s gaze swung to Steve. “And you’re buying me cheesecake from that place we ordered from last week.”

“You’re on,” Clint and Steve said at nearly the same time.

Bucky shook his head, his gaze fond. He walked back over to the start of the course and began again. He fumbled a bit on the ladder, though nothing like Clint expected. It was freaking ridiculous. He turned his head to say something to Steve, saw him watching Bucky speculatively.

“Steve?”

Steve shot him grin then took off towards the course. Bucky, on the fly wheels, saw him coming and cursed.

“Don’t even think about it, Rogers.”

“Too late!” Steve sang out. He hit the platform behind the wheels and leaped onto Bucky’s back. Bucky yelped, tightened his hold on the wheel with a determined look on his face. 

The wheels were almost as ridiculous the ladder. You had to use your core and your legs to get enough momentum to leap from one wheel to the next. It was hard enough to handle your own body weight; Clint had no idea how Bucky was going to manage with two hundred plus of extra super soldier. 

Somehow, he did, swinging to the second wheel with a grunt of effort, accompanied by the screaming approval of their audience. Clint could see the strain as he tried to get enough momentum to move to the next, knew as soon as Bucky let go that he wasn’t going to make it. The drop wasn’t long, into a small pool that held just enough water to cushion the fall. The two old friends hit the water with a loud splash, Bucky cursing Steve before they ever landed. Steve was laughing uproariously. Bucky smacked a handful of water into his face before bursting into laughter himself. It was a deep belly laugh Clint had never heard before. Bucky’s eyes were bright, happiness clear on his face, and the smile just got bigger as soon as he locked eyes with Clint.

The warmth Clint had been carrying around with him exploded, and all Clint could think was _oh fuck_.

➳✪➳

He escaped the gym as soon as he could without raising suspicions, used the gym locker room to shower and dress in clean clothes. He took the stairs to Natasha’s floor, flung himself onto her sofa. He had his face buried in the cushions when she arrived.

“Why is there a sad sack of blond on my couch?”

“I’m an idiot,” Clint mumbled into the sofa.

Natasha made a non-committal noise. He rolled onto his back, lifted his head so that she could sit down and he could lay his head back on her thigh.

“I mean, I guess it’s not surprising,” Clint mumbled.

“You do have a type,” Natasha agreed.

“Deadly, gorgeous, and unattainable.” Clint sighed.

Natasha tugged on his hair. “I’m unattainable for everyone.”

“That did help,” Clint admitted. Then he sat up to look at her, aghast. “Wait, you knew?”

“Clint, everybody knows.”

 _”Everybody?_ ”

That was the worst news Clint had ever heard. 

“I don’t think Bucky knows, if that helps.”

Clint flopped back down with a dramatic sigh. “This is the worst.” 

“Why?”

Natasha sounded genuinely curious. Clint blinked at her.

“Did you miss the unattainable part?”

“I don’t think he is.”

“Nat.” 

Clint couldn’t help the low warning in his tone. Natasha flicked his ear.

“Have I ever lied to you?” Clint shook his head immediately. “And I wouldn’t, especially about something like this. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Hmm. That was definitely something to think about. 

“Can I stay here for a bit?”

“Ice cream and _The Real Housewives of Beverley Hills_?”

“Sold. I love those catty bitches.”


	3. Chapter 3

Things changed after the ninja course. Bucky couldn’t have said why he felt that way, just that he did. He’d always spent the most time with Clint, followed closely by Steve. They just didn’t go out often. Bucky could admit that was mostly his reluctance. He still felt self-conscious about the arm, worried that everyone would look at him and know exactly who he was. They did, just not in the way he expected. Tony’s PR team had worked actual magic, and while people knew that Captain America’s friend had survived the war under tragic circumstances, most had no idea of the full story. It was buried in old files and bureaucratic red tape. Bucky could live with it.

Once he’d become more comfortable with going out, Clint always seemed to have somewhere new for them to go. They prowled Manhattan until Bucky knew it like the back of his hand. Sometimes they had an Avenger or three in tow; most often it was just the two of them. They found favorite bookstores and cafes, stumbled across a new pizza place that Clint fell in love with. Bucky had a sweet tooth, and they managed to find an off-the-beaten-path bakery that did amazing desserts without the crazy crowds that they ran into downtown. Bucky loved it, knew Clint did too because he suggested most of their outings. It was nice, even if it wasn’t exactly what Bucky wanted.

He spent a good portion of time berating himself for wanting more than he had. He had a great place to live. Good friends, who might become something like family. He had freedom and could make his own choices. He had Steve. And yes, he had Clint. He just couldn’t help wanting more than friendship with Clint. He couldn’t have said when his friendly feelings for Clint had become more. It seemed like one morning Bucky had woken up and they’d just been there. This longing for something he’d never had. Sure, he’d dated. Could vaguely remember feeling the urge to do more than steal a kiss under the moonlight. A lot of his oldest memories were still hazy, though, and he couldn’t remember if he’d ever felt this overwhelming _want_ the way that he did for Clint. 

Clint was gorgeous, and he always seemed to have an aversion for shirts. Bucky had learned to tune it out; that became impossible after the ninja course. Just thinking about the way Clint’s abs had worked as he’d climbed the salmon ladder could send Bucky to a cold shower. He still didn’t like to spend time on the range, refused to shoot a weapon of any kind, but he’d started to wander down once in a while to watch Clint. Clint was breathtaking with a bow in his hand, and Bucky often found himself mesmerized by him. It got bad enough that he couldn’t go to the range with Clint if any of the others were there because he was afraid someone would notice.

Bucky cursed the return of his libido, he really did. It was freaking inconvenient to finally feel the desire to jerk off and find yourself unable to do it. All of his fantasies seemed to revolve around Clint, and try as he might, he couldn’t get himself off without Clint ending up right at the forefront of his thoughts. As much as he found the idea of sex with Clint hot, he couldn’t jerk off to thoughts of his friend without feeling like a pervert.

Bucky now had real, first-hand knowledge as to why they called it sexual frustration.

➳✪➳

Summer was passing quickly. Bucky didn’t really notice; too caught up in settling into this new life and trying to manage his crush (or whatever it was) on Clint. The Avengers celebrated Steve’s birthday with a barbeque. Steve and Bucky were used to much smaller birthday gatherings, and it was a little overwhelming, but a lot of fun. They cooked out, a lot, and spent time in the Tower’s pool. Bucky wasn’t used to having that much downtime but he got used to it quickly. He became a voracious reader, always had a book with him at the pool. He enjoyed catching up on books, and they also made a handy prop from behind which he could hide and watch Clint’s antics in the pool. That activity didn’t help with the sexual frustration, but Bucky had resigned himself to just living with it.

There were a few Avengers call-outs, though nothing that ever required the whole team. Steve, Natasha, and Clint were still doing the occasional S.H.I.E.L.D. intelligence gatherings. Bucky had thought he might get anxious when the team was gone and he couldn’t watch anyone’s back. It wasn’t as bad as he expected it to be. On the few easy calls, Bucky had watched with JARVIS, able to call out details and help that way. It was enough, for now. The S.H.I.E.L.D. missions were different, and Bucky came to enjoy that downtime. He started watching cooking shows on TV and loved trying out recipes in his and Clint’s kitchen. He wasn’t lonely, always had someone to hang out with if he wanted it. All in all, it was a good life. Bucky was content, even without having Clint as more than a friend.

It was a gorgeous night in late September when Bucky decided to have Steve over to his and Clint’s place for dinner. Tony and Pepper were off on a business trip for Stark Industries, Banner was off doing research, and Natasha was gone on an assignment with Maria Hill. It seemed like the perfect time to put his cooking skills to the test. He wasn’t ready to cook for a crowd but Steve would be a good test case. 

It took some time before he settled on Italian, something all three of them loved. Then it took another week to narrow it down to lasagna. He knew Clint was amused though the man was smart enough to keep it to himself. Bucky wasn’t above eating lasagna in front of him and not sharing. 

Bucky spent the day of Steve’s visit cleaning and preparing food. Clint could be a disaster in the kitchen but he made an excellent assistant. Between the two of them, it wasn’t hard to get the dish ready and in the oven. Steve came over early, and the three played cards and visited. Bucky was relaxed, happy, enjoying time with his two best friends.

Steve kept sneaking little looks at him and smiling. Bucky ignored him as he finished getting the meal on the table. He wanted his first effort at cooking for a guest to be perfect; that was more important than trying to figure out Steve Rogers. 

Clint helped him set places at the island, was almost allowed to bring the garlic bread to the table until he tried to sneak a piece. Bucky smacked his hand with the wooden spoon he was holding, redirected Clint to pour the wine instead. Steve laughed, taking over bread duty.

“Your mom used to do that whenever we tried to get at the cookies before they cooled.”

Bucky tilted his head, thinking. “You’re right; I do remember that.”

Clint gave him a half-hearted glare. “I’m freaking starving, Buck. This is cruel and unusual punishment.”

“You can wait five more minutes.”

“Ugh. You’re the worst.”

With Steve’s help, Bucky got the rest of food out without incident, and they all sat down to eat. Clint, as usual, was nearly pornographic in his appreciation of food, and Bucky had to fight not squirm in his chair.

“This is amazing. We need to have this every day.”

Bucky was so relieved he could have kissed Clint. In relief. Over the food. Not any other reason. He mentally smacked himself, turned his attention to Steve.

“He’s right. This is even better than that stupidly expensive place Tony always orders from.” Steve grinned at Bucky, tapped his fork against his wine glass. “The wine is a nice touch.”

Bucky shrugged, fighting a blush. “I asked Tony about that, what would work for the meal. Thought it’d be nice.”

“It’s really good, Buck. I’m glad you had me over.”

Bucky’s nerves settled and he was able to dig into his own meal. It was pretty damn good, if he did say so himself. 

Clint was seated next to him, with Steve across the island from them, which meant Bucky could tell that Steve was still giving him those same odd looks. Finally, he put his fork down.

“Okay, out with it, Stevie.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Steve’s little grin said he was a damn liar. Bucky crossed his arms across his chest, waited him out. Steve huffed out a breath.

“Fine. It’s just nice, okay.”

“What is?”

“This!” Steve gestured toward the room at large before indicating the three of them. “You’re back, and I get to spend time with you. And I know this future isn’t one we ever would have dreamed of but I can’t hate it. Not when I get to have dinner with my best friend and his boyfriend.”

Bucky heard the clatter as Clint’s fork hit his plate, and he could feel the shock emanating from him. He refused to look, didn’t want to see whatever look was on Clint’s face. 

Steve, apparently unaware of the bomb he’d just dropped, continued. “I just wish you had told me. You know I’d be okay with it. I like Clint. I think he’s really good for you.”

“But we’re not dating,” Bucky said, a little desperately.

“Umm, we kind of might be?”

Clint’s voice was so quiet, Bucky wasn’t sure he’d heard him correctly.

“What are you talking about?”

“I just… didn’t want to scare you.” Clint looked miserable, and that was the last thing Bucky wanted. He just didn’t know how to stop it. “I’ve been taking you places, date places, and I just thought that, well, if it went okay, then I’d be able to work up the nerve to ask you out for real. And you’d know that it would be good. Because I can be a disaster, and I don’t do relationships well at all. But I was trying.”

Clint slid off the bar stool, and practically bolted for his room. Bucky glanced up at Steve, who seemed just as shocked as Bucky.

“Can we take a raincheck, Steve?”

“Shit, I’m really sorry, Buck.”

“It’s okay. Or, will be.” 

He stood up, came around the island to hug his friend. “Take some of that with you. I know one piece isn’t enough for your appetite. I’m going to go have a long overdue talk with Clint.”

He left Steve to fend for himself, walked across the apartment to knock quietly on Clint’s door. Super soldier hearing let him catch the soft sigh Clint made before he told Bucky to come in. Bucky let himself into Clint’s room, closed the door behind him. He stood with his back against the door unsure how to proceed.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Clint said. “I know I fucked up.”

“Why do you think that?”

Clint had been lying flat on his back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He sat up, gave Bucky a wan look. “I should have told you from the beginning. It was stupid to just… and now Steve thinks we’re dating and that you didn’t tell him.”

“Steve’s not angry. Not at me, or at you, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Bucky moved closer, waited until Clint nodded before he sat down on the corner of the bed near Clint. “Why didn’t you just tell me that you wanted those dates to be real?”

Clint shrugged. “Like I said, I’m really bad at being in a relationship. Tried it a few times, it always crashed and burned. Figured I just wasn’t meant to be that guy, that relationship guy.”

“I think you are. That relationship guy.”

“Come again?”

Bucky smiled. “Clint, we’ve been… practice dating for what? A couple of months now? And you’ve been perfect. We always have a great time.”

“We do, don’t we?”

“I love spending time with you. You’re honestly a perfect date. Not that I know much about it.” Bucky smiled self-consciously. “Dating was different, back in the day. And I’ve got no experience at all going out with a guy.”

“For what it’s worth, you’re really good at it.”

“It’s worth a lot.” Bucky turned to face Clint more fully. “I should be honest with you about something.” Bucky could see Clint tense up, braced for something. He reached out and rested a hand on Clint’s ankle. “I’ve had a thing for you for a while now. If you had asked me out, I would have said yes.”

“Would have?” Clint was looking hopeful now.

“Will. If you ask.”

Clint’s smile bloomed bright. “James Buchanan Barnes, would you like to go out with me for real?”

“Yes. On one condition.”

Clint’s eyes widened. “Are you serious right now?”

“Very serious. Kissing needs to be on the table in this relationship, now that our dates are real.”

Clint burst out laughing. “I mean, kissing can definitely be on a table, if that’s your thing. But you’re here right now…”

Bucky groaned. “Oh God, that was terrible.”

Clint grinned at him. “You like me anyway.”

“I do. A lot.”

Clint’s grin softened it something small and pleased. “Does that mean I can kiss you now?”

Bucky didn’t answer, just leaned in. Clint made a soft noise, met him halfway. The first kiss was nothing more than a brush, Clint’s breath warm against his lips. Clint slid a hand into Bucky’s hair, kept him close as he kissed him again, firmer this time. He nipped at Bucky’s bottom lip, making Bucky groan. He shifted closer, opening his mouth and inviting Clint in. Clint licked into Bucky’s mouth, and liquid heat slid down Bucky’s spine. He pulled back, already breathing hard. 

“Something wrong?” Clint asked, his own breathing far from steady.

“I’ve been thinking about you like this. All the time. It’s…” 

He was already rock hard, cock pressing against his zipper. He reached down to adjust himself, and Clint tracked his movements. He groaned when he saw how hard Bucky was.

“That’s not a bad thing.”

Bucky shifted uncomfortably. “I know, and it’s not like I can help it. It’s been… a really long time for me.”

“How long?” Clint asked curiously.

“Umm, before the war? And I don’t actually remember, you know.”

Clint’s eyes widened. “I don’t know what I should say to that.”

“Nothing, please.” It was embarrassing enough. “Just, don’t blame me for the hair trigger.”

“Oh hell no. No blame. It’s hot as hell.” Clint reached for him, then hesitated and pulled back. “Do you… should we go slow?"

Bucky looked at him, horrified. “I just told you I haven’t had sex in seven decades. That isn’t slow enough? Besides, we’ve been on something like fifty dates by this point.”

Clint cracked up. “If you’re sure.”

“I am. Unless you want to go slow.”

It’d kill Bucky, after the torturous months of pining, but he’d do it. Clint arched a brow at him, then knelt up on the bed and tugged his shirt off.

“Thank God,” Bucky groaned.

He practically tackled Clint back onto the bed, Clint laughing the entire time. Part of Bucky wanted to take this first time slow, savor it. He’d just been waiting so damn long to be allowed to touch Clint like this. He settled on top of Clint, bending his head for a kiss as Clint parted his thighs and let Bucky press closer. He groaned into Clint’s mouth as his hips rocked against Clint’s, the sweet friction nearly enough to get him off already.

“Clint.”

His tone was desperate, and Clint seemed to understand. “’s okay, Buck. I’m good with nakedness and orgasms. You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this, wanting you.”

Bucky kissed him again, grateful that Clint understood. They undressed each other quickly, and Bucky was definitely going to take the time to explore that body thoroughly because…

“Christ, you’re gorgeous.”

Clint flushed, hands roaming the muscles of Bucky’s back. He lifted his head for a kiss, wrapped his legs around Bucky’s waist. “Come on, Buck. Need you.”

Their kisses turned frantic as Bucky rocked against Clint. Each drag of his cock against Clint’s made him shudder, precome easing the slide as they got closer and closer to the edge. Clint reached between them, calloused fingers tracing the length of Bucky’s cock, and he was gone, coming all over Clint’s hand and cock. He started to pull back but Clint let out a whine, urging Bucky to kiss him again. He could feel Clint shift his hand, felt him jerking himself off, and he wanted to watch, couldn’t manage to give up Clint’s mouth. Clint spilled between them, hot and slick, and Bucky nearly came again at the feeling.

Their kisses slowed down, gradually stopped as they both tried to catch their breath. Bucky moved off Clint, didn’t go far. He tangled his legs with Clint’s, rested a hand low on Clint’s belly. Clint was a mess, and Bucky found he didn’t care. He kissed Clint’s bare shoulder, grinning when Clint turned his head to smile at him.

“Well that was quick.” Clint teased.

Bucky slid his hand up and tweaked Clint’s nipple. “You weren’t going to joke about that.”

“No joke. I came just as fast as you did.” Clint turned onto his side, kissed Bucky’s nose. “It’s nice, being wanted like that.”

“Trust me, that’s not a problem.” He got an arm around Clint, tugged him close. “I wasn’t kidding before. I’ve been thinking about you, us, like this for months now. It’s been killing me.”

“Feel free to jump me whenever you want.”

“You might regret that,” Bucky told him, laughing.

“Never going to happen.”

➳✪➳

Luckily, Clint had meant it when he’d told Bucky to jump him at will. Once sex was a part of things, Bucky couldn’t keep his hands to himself. They’d had yet to manage slow and exploratory, both of them going from zero to sixty whenever the clothes came off. The third time Natasha caught them making out, she’d banished them to their floor until they worked it out of their systems.

“Tasha may have made a tactical error,” Clint groaned. He was lying flat on his belly, back a mess of bite marks and come from where Bucky had rubbed off on him. “I don’t think we’re ever leaving this floor again.”

Bucky hummed, idly scratched at his belly. “Eh, who needs the outside world. We have grocery delivery. We’ll be fine.”

Clint chuckled, made a herculean effort to shift on the bed so he could cuddle up to Bucky. “I don’t know where my pants are.”

“Living room, I think. You were taking them off when we hit the door.” Bucky frowned. “Why do you need pants?”

“I guess I don’t right now. As long as there’s no Avengers alarm.”

“Maybe we should get in another round.” Bucky slid a hand down to rest on Clint’s ass. “You know, in case the alarm goes off.”

“Gotta stock up, huh?”

“Seems smart.”

Clint moved to straddle Bucky, fingers sliding up to tease at Bucky’s nipples. “We do have lost time to make up for. I mean, seventy years is a lot of lost sex.”

“It is,” Bucky agreed, cock hardening as Clint tweaked a nipple. “Lots on my list of things to try.”

“We might even be slacking,” Clint said with a laugh. “We haven’t even gotten to actual fucking.”

They hadn’t, both too impatient to get off to bother with things like lube and prep. “It’s on the list.” Bucky grabbed Clint’s hips, arched his hips to rub his cock against Clint’s thigh. “Blow jobs are pretty high up there too. Why don’t you slide on up here, let me suck you off?”

Clint, no dummy, didn’t seem to have a single objection to that as he knee-walked up the bed. Bucky grinned, grabbed his ass and pulled Clint close.

➳✪➳

The sex marathons eventually eased off, and Natasha allowed them into common areas once it became clear that they could finally keep their clothes on around one another. Bucky could admit that, while it wasn’t as good as sex, it was nice to sit with Clint on movie nights, cuddled up on a sofa together, surrounded by their friends. Steve was ridiculously excited about them being together, was always giving them smiles when he caught them holding hands or kissing.

Summer had wound down. The air had a definite bite to it when he and Clint went walking now. The trees in the parks were starting to change and Bucky realized he’d been at the Tower just over six months. Stores were starting to decorate for Halloween, which seemed early to Bucky. When he told Clint that, Clint laughed.

“Just wait until Christmas. Some places decorate before Thanksgiving.”

“That’s okay. I always liked Christmas, growing up.”

“Then you’ll love it here. This town will be lit up like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Maybe we should get through Tony’s Halloween party first.”

Tony was already in full planning mode even though it was weeks away. He’d roped Steve into helping, and Steve didn’t seem to mind at all. They were all gathered around for breakfast on a Monday morning when Tony started to wrangle the rest of the team into helping. He had errands set up for Steve for the coming weekend, was frowning down at his tablet as he made notes.

“Robin, you and Barnes can help Steve pick up those decorations on Saturday, right?”

“No can do,” Clint told him. “Me and Buck have plans this weekend.”

That was news to Bucky. “We do?”

“Yep. Finally got confirmation. I was going to tell you after breakfast.”

Tony scowled, started editing schedules in his tablet. Clint got up to put his dishes in the dishwasher, paused long enough to hip check Tony.

“Any weekend but this one, okay?”

“Fine. Go off and be mysterious.”

Bucky waited until they were in the elevator to ask. “Going to let me in on these plans?”

To his surprise, Clint looked away, blushing. “I, umm, want to take you on a date.”

“We go on dates all the time.”

“Not lately. We stay in and watch movies. Order takeout. Have sex. And our dates before that don’t count. You didn’t know they were dates.” He met Bucky’s eyes. “I want to take you on a real date. One that we planned for, and that you actually know is a date.”

Bucky reached out to grab Clint’s belt loops, pulled him into a kiss. “I’d love to go on a real date with you.”

“Okay, good.” Clint was practically beaming. “I’ve got it all planned. You just need to be ready to go on Friday about two. Pack for a weekend, cold weather stuff.”

“Do I get to know where we’re going?”

“Nope, it’s a surprise.” The elevator doors opened and Clint stepped out. He threw Bucky a look over his shoulder. “I’m packing lube. Thought we might actually get around to crossing fucking off your list.”

“Then why do I need to pack clothes?” Bucky called after him.

Clint’s laughter echoed down the hall, making Bucky smile. Hell yes he was ready for a real date.

➳✪➳

Friday dawned bright and clear. Bucky met Clint down in the parking garage. They were taking one of Tony’s cars to Clint’s mysterious destination. Bucky still hadn’t been clued in as to where that was so Clint drove. Bucky was fine with that. It gave him the chance to watch the passing scenery as he chatted with Clint. The leaves were changing, a riot of color everywhere he looked. They got to see this when they walked through parks in their neighborhood but it was nothing like this.

It was just starting to get dark when Clint pulled into a long driveway. There were fairy lights strung along the drive, and Bucky could see a one-story building in front of them. As Clint drove past, Bucky could read the sign above the door.

“An orchard?”

Clint nodded. “They have private cabins along the edges of the orchard, and there’s quite a bit to do. I know you like being outside. Thought it might be fun.”

Clint had already checked them in and gotten a virtual key, so they drove straight to their cabin. All of the cabins seemed to be set back from the main road, giving each place privacy. Clint parked in their carport and got out of the car with Bucky behind him. They stretched out the kinks from the drive, then grabbed their bags and headed inside.

Bucky gave a low whistle when he cleared the doorway. “Clint, this is amazing.”

There was a large open area that consisted of a living room and small kitchen. The living room had a fireplace that was set up for them, and would just need to be lit. Stairs to the left of the kitchen led up to a loft that covered half of the first floor. They dropped their bags next to the bed, and Bucky wandered off to check out the bathroom. There was a whirlpool tub big enough for two, and a stand-alone shower, also big enough for two. Both were giving Bucky ideas. He came back out to the bedroom and told Clint that, making Clint laugh.

“Hold that thought.”

He took Bucky’s hand and led him to the glass doors that took up the entire back wall of the bedroom. Out on the deck, there was a hot tub bubbling merrily.

“Holy shit. Can we stay here forever?”

Clint grinned, clearly pleased by Bucky’s response. “Go on out. I need to grab something first.”

“You are just full of surprises tonight.”

Bucky did as he was told. It felt a little weird to get naked outside, but the lights in the hot tub wouldn’t be enough to make him visible from the other cabins. There was plenty of tree coverage, and the moon was barely a sliver. He slipped into the tub, giving a little sigh of pleasure as the hot water surrounded him. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

He wasn’t sure how long it was before he heard the doors slide open again. He opened his eyes, sat up straight to watch as Clint came out onto the deck. He was holding two glasses and a bottle of champagne. He handed them off to Bucky.

“Want to pour while I get undressed?”

“I’d rather watch you get naked.”

Clint shook his head, laughing. “You’ll see plenty of that this weekend.”

God, Bucky hoped so. Clint was stunning when he was naked. 

Bucky dutifully poured the champagne, though he did steal glances at Clint. Clint was grinning when he stepped into the tub. 

“You are not subtle at all.”

“I like looking at my boyfriend when he’s naked. Sue me.”

Clint settled in close to Bucky, his skin a bit chilled from the night air. The water would warm him up nicely, and Bucky couldn’t wait to get his hands all over a naked and wet Clint. He handed off one of the flutes, content to wait for the moment. 

“Are we celebrating something? We’re not usually this fancy.”

“That’s kind of why I wanted to do it,” Clint admitted. “Just something nice, a little out of the ordinary.”

Bucky wrapped an arm around him, kissed his temple. “It’s a really good first date.” He grinned at Clint. “I’m planning to put out, in case you were curious.”

Clint’s laughter was loud in the dark of the night, and Bucky loved it. Loved when Clint was happy like this.

They lounged in the hot tub, drinking champagne as they cuddled and kissed. It was different, not having that burning need to get off with Clint _right now_ and Bucky found he liked it. 

The bottle was gone, and Clint was a little tipsy. The wandering of his hands had grown more purposeful, and Bucky gave a low moan when Clint finally wrapped his fingers around Bucky’s cock.

“Ready to go in?”

“Yeah, please, Bucky.”

Bucky groaned, took Clint’s mouth in a deep kiss. The urgency was growing, both of them ready to move past teasing. He helped Clint out of the tub, drying them both haphazardly with a towel Clint had brought out. It would be enough to not soak the bed, and that was all Bucky cared about. They hurried inside, the chill on damp skin making them rush. 

Inside, Bucky turned to close the glass doors and pull the drapes, turned back to Clint, and froze. Clint was lighting candles on the bedside table, bathing the room in a soft glow.

“Clint.”

Bucky wasn’t sure what his voice was doing but Clint turned to him with a soft smile. “I know, it’s ridiculous. I just… wanted it to be nice. For you.”

Bucky swallowed hard, walked over to pull Clint into his arms. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

Clint reached up to tangle his fingers in Bucky’s hair, tugged him into a kiss. “So are you.”

They tumbled into bed, sharing lazy kisses that built heat between them. Clint touched him carefully, like this was brand new to them, like Bucky was precious. Bucky trailed kisses along Clint’s cheekbones, his jaw, down his throat. He bit gently at where Clint’s pulse beat strong and steady, licked a path along that line to feel the way Clint’s heartbeat sped up. 

Clint’s cock was hot and hard, leaving dampness on Bucky’s thigh as it brushed against him. Bucky wasn’t in any better shape, could feel every beat of his heart throbbing in his cock. 

“Clint, I need…”

“Me too.” Clint arched under him, skin glowing in the candlelight. “Bucky, please.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

He lifted off Clint, reached over to the bedside table to grab the lube Clint had put here. “How do you want to do this?”

“Will you fuck me? I want to feel you.”

“Yeah, fuck. I want that.”

He fumbled the bottle open, slicked his fingers before sliding his hand between Clint’s thighs. Clint parted his legs wider, made room for Bucky to settle between them. Bucky kissed him as he rubbed the pads of his fingertips over Clint’s hole. Clint let out ragged moan.

“Please.”

“God, Clint.”

Bucky eased a finger inside Clint, biting his lip at the heat that surrounded him. Clint was tight, almost impossibly so. He worked Clint open gently, until he could slip a second finger in. Clint was writhing under him now, and he was so beautiful he took Bucky’s breath away.

“Clint? Can I?”

“Yes, please. I want you.”

Bucky slipped his fingers free, moved to rest the head of his cock against Clint’s hole. He shifted forward, pushing in achingly slow. Clint cried out, the pleasure in his voice making Bucky groan. It took all of his self-control to fill Clint slowly, working in inch by inch until his hips rested against Clint’s ass. He had to stop then, forehead resting against Clint’s as he caught his breath.

He didn’t even realize he’d closed his eyes until he opened them again to see Clint smiling at him. Clint reached up to brush the hair from Bucky’s forehead.

“Okay?”

“Perfect.”

He pulled back, nearly slipping free of Clint’s body before rocking forward and burying his cock deep. He fucked Clint like that, slow and lazy, until neither one of them could take it anymore.

“Bucky, God. I need….”

Bucky sped up, his movements deep and measured now, hitting Clint’s prostate on every thrust. Clint was whimpering; soft, broken little cries that were driving Bucky out of his mind. He reached between them, wrapped his fingers tightly around Clint’s cock. Clint cried out, arching up as he came. Bucky shuddered, buried himself deep and stilled, let the tightening of Clint’s body coax his own orgasm from him. 

When he could breathe again, Bucky carefully rolled to his side, bringing Clint with him. Clint flung a leg over Bucky’s hip, movements slow so he could keep Bucky inside of him. His fingertips traced the bumps of Bucky’s spine.

“That was….” Bucky trailed off.

“Yeah.”

Clint sounded dazed. Bucky lifted his head, smiled at Clint before he stole a kiss. Clint laughed softly. 

“Go ahead and be smug. You earned it.”

“We did.”

“Go us.” Clint gave a little cheer. 

“You’re drunk.”

“Tipsy on champagne. Drunk on you.”

“You are ridiculous.”

“Maybe but you like me anyway.”

“I do.”

“And that’s why you’re going to be the one to fetch a washcloth and clean us up.”

Bucky groaned. “Five minutes?”

Clint wrapped his arms around Bucky. “Five minutes.”

➳✪➳

True to his word, Bucky cleaned them up, and they traipsed downstairs to raid the fridge. They ate cold chicken and pasta salad, shared a beer as they lay on a blanket in front of the fire. They had sex on the colorful quilt while the fire died down, then again in bed before exhaustion pulled at them.

After the last time, Bucky wrapped himself around Clint, kissed the nape of his neck. He was almost asleep, knew Clint was too. Still.

“Clint?”

“Hmm?”

“You awake?”

“Kind of. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He nosed at Clint’s cheek. “I just… I think I’m falling for you.”

He felt the shuddering breath Clint too. “I think I already fell.”

Bucky closed his eyes, tightened his arms around Clint. “Sleep. I’ve got you.”

➳✪➳

They slept in the next morning, didn’t head to the main building until brunch. After they ate, they chose to wander the orchard on their own instead of with a guided tour. It was nice, wandering the orchard hand in hand with Clint, the fall colors an explosion around them. Clint had a constant smile on his face, and Bucky knew he was no better.

They were picking apples when it occurred to Bucky to ask.

“Why an apple orchard?”

“Oh.” Clint rubbed at the back of his neck. “You like being outside, and… I grew up in Iowa. Did I tell you that?”

“Vaguely, when we first met.” Other than that, Clint never talked about his childhood, which told Bucky everything he needed to know.

“We didn’t have money growing up but there was an orchard nearby. You could go on hay rides cheap and wander a maze. My mom would take me, and we’d get to hang out together. I always like the apple donuts the best.”

Bucky set his bag down, grabbed Clint’s belt loop. Clint turned to him, puzzled, until Bucky leaned in and kissed him.

“Do you think we could make this a tradition?”

Clint smiled, kissed Bucky again. “I think we should.”

And Bucky didn’t say it, not right then but he knew it wasn’t a question anymore. He’d fallen, head over heels.


End file.
